03:17
by TJ-TeeJay
Summary: Take a look inside my things.are.going.perfectly.between.Adam.and.Joan bubble. Just a short, cute, little AdamJoan piece, set in the future. Rated M for sexual content. ONE SHOT.


**03:17**

_by TeeJay_

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**Summary:**  
_Take a look inside my things-are-going-perfectly-between-Adam-and-Joan bubble. Just a short, cute, little Adam-Joan piece, set in the future. Rated M for sexual content._

**Author's Note:**  
_Uh... another R-rated story (or rather M-rated) from me. Didn't think that would happen again, but it did. Can't help it, this popped into my head as I was watching the latest "Medium" episode. And I don't know why I felt like complete Adam/Joan fluff. Washes over me every now and then._

_Hope you like it. I'm sure the hardcore Adam/Joan shippers will. Not much more to say at this point except: Please review, it'd make my day. Thanks, guys! Besides, I really wanna test this new "reply to review" feature. There's no use doing that if no one posts any new reviews._

**Disclaimer:**  
_These characters and settings are not mine. Nor am I claiming they are. They are property of CBS, Barbara Hall Productions, Sony or whoever else they might belong to. I'm not making any money out of this, although I wish I was._

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Koala bears playing the violin, dancing to an inaudible tune, spinning round and round as they do. Green and blue streamers are decorating the wall behind them. Eucalyptus leaves are woven in among them. I reach out to touch one of the fluffy gray animals, but it slaps my hand away with its paw.

I jerk my hand back and am slowly transgressing the threshold from dreaming to wakefulness. Another koala bear dream? My goodness, I haven't had those in years. Almost subconsciously, I turn around and carefully inch my arm to the other side of the king size bed where I expect my fingers to meet a bundle of blankets or warm and bare skin. But my hands and then my gaze are met only by cold sheets and an empty pillow.

I rub the last remnants of sleep from my eyes and look at the digital alarm clock on my nightstand. 03:17 it blinks at me mockingly. A time at which, by all accounts, the world should be asleep, myself included. My boyfriend included as well. I scramble from the bed and my warm sheets and quietly pad into the living room on bare feet.

I can see him sitting on the couch from behind, his knees drawn up and wrapped by his arms, his back turned towards me. His disheveled, dark hair shimmers in the light from the streetlamps that filters through the windows. I slowly walk over to him and tenderly place my palms on his shoulders, rubbing them ever so slightly. I plant a soft kiss on the top of his head, asking in a low voice, "What are you doing up?"

He tilts his head upwards and my hand finds its way to his hairline at the top of his forehead, caressing it softly. "Couldn't sleep," he explains.

I walk around the side of the couch and sit down next to him, leaning in as he removes one arm from his knees and wraps it around my shoulder. My head rests comfortably against his shoulder as I softly inquire, "Bad dream?"

"Yeah," he simply whispers.

"Wanna talk about it?" I ask and it's almost like I don't have to because I sense that he does.

"Just some old memories chasing me," he tells me.

"Your mom?" It's been ten years since she died, but I know her memory and spirit still lingers over Adam's life like a persistent cobweb you can't quite clear away. And maybe that's not such a bad thing in the end.

But Adam shakes his head, loosening his hold on my torso slightly as if he's retreating from me. "No. This was about Bonnie," he simply says and it's like the air has just turned a few degrees colder.

I lift my head from his shoulder and sit up, studying his face. It looks relaxed, but there is a flicker of something troubled in his features. A flicker that I've learned to detect and read in the past five years that we have been together.

"That still haunting you?" I ask him softly.

He just nods, not saying anything. I take his hand that is now lying in his lap, intertwining my fingers with his. A gesture he hesitantly mirrors. In a soothing tone, I add, "Look, that's in the past. It was a mistake, we both know that. Let's not dwell on it. Things are different now."

I smile at him reassuringly as he slowly turns his head to look at me. His lips form into an ever so small smile. "Yes, you're right. They are," he acknowledges.

I get up and tug at his hand. "Come on, let's go back to bed."

He doesn't resist and lets me pull him up and guide him back into the bedroom and our bed. As he lies down with his back to me, I pull closer and comb some of his long and wavy hair away from his neck, so that his pale, soft skin at the nape of his neck just above the collar of his old and worn t shirt is exposed. My lips find their way there and I trace a line along the t-shirt collar with soft kisses.

He moans softly and I can feel him first tense and then relax. He turns around and—completely naturally—our lips meet. Deeply. Soft, but still passionate. Not the hesitant, superficial kisses that we used to share when we were still teenagers. These are kisses that speak of intimacy, familiarity and unconditional love. These are kisses that still make my hairs stand on end.

His hand finds its way to my back and slides underneath my pyjama top, caressing my bare back as his other hand tenderly cups my cheek to indicate that this is exactly what he wants, what he needs.

I can feel my body tingling as if electrified. I want to take him, right here, right now, with all his flaws and all the mistakes we've both made in the past. My hand moves to the waistband of his flannel pyjama pants, edging closer, signaling that I want this as much as he does. Our lips separate for a second, just long enough for him to whisper, "I love you, Jane. I love you so much."

I kiss the warm skin just beneath his earlobe and whisper back, "I love you too, Adam Rove. More than you can ever imagine."

These words are like a magic spell, one that binds us together now more than ever, and eventually our bodies come together like it's the most natural thing in the world, like they're made for each other. The making love part isn't even the most important thing about it. And to think that was what almost tore us apart.

I know now that it wasn't about the sex. Maybe that was a part of it, but it wasn't only about that. Took us the hard way to learn that, but we finally did. And now that we do, we won't let anything come between us anymore.

It's the comfort of that thought that lingers with me as my eyes slowly droop before the enveloping arms of sleep claim me and drag me into its realm.

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THE END.


End file.
